Page 25 of Kick Out of It

“I’ll be here for your first game, but I’ll have to see what I can work out in the next month.” Lettie finishes her wine in three quick gulps, then tells Nora, “I’m in for the rest of the night, if you two want to go out.”

“Actually,” I answer before Nora, “I was once told you normally read after dinner. I didn’t bring a book with me, care if I borrow one?”

Nora mutters something to herself, then bites her lip to hide her smile. “I’m surprised you remember that. You may borrow my ereader, if you like? I haven’t unpacked the boxes of books yet.”

Leo chimes in, “Can we go for a walk first?”

“Of course, peanut. Let me take care of the dishes and we can go.”

“Leave ‘em,” Lettie insists. “I’ll do them when we get back.”

I stand and clear the plates, setting them in the sink. Leo slips on trainers with laces that don’t require tying and when he spots mine that are nearly identical but in a bigger size, his grin couldn’t be wider. I can’t stand wearing shoes and socks. The moment I’m home, I like to slip off my shoes as quickly as possible to free myself of the foot dungeons—laces slow down the process. I can’t help but wonder what his reasoning is.

Nora’s neighbourhood is quiet and her building reminds more of student housing than one suited for families. Admittedly, I’m not familiar with this area, so I could be way off in my assumptions. I don’t get out much anymore, and when I do, I’m with my mates at a pub or doing weekly shopping and errands. I owned a home before I moved into my current place, but it was too much space for only me. It was tucked away in nearly two acres of mature trees and gardens, and had a private beach. My mind wanders; if I had kept it, Leo would have more space to practise.

We walk for half an hour, Leo telling me about everything he’s looking forward to, with Nora and Lettie following behind uswhispering. I’m able to multitask listening to all three of them, trying to smother my smile when I overhear Nora tell Lettie that she’s scared about falling for me.

Little does the lass know, I fell for her before she stepped foot in Ireland.

CHAPTER 11

NORA

The past week been a blur, but I still managed to see Ronan every day. Every night he stays for dinner, or Leo and I go to his place. It ends with a walk and an hour of reading. It’s becoming routine, which Leo loves but I’m increasingly nervous about.

The two dinners we had with Bridget and her son, Gavin, have been the highlight of Leo’s week. Despite them playing against each other at Leo’s first match in a couple of days, they’ve become fast friends. I’m worried about a few conflicting days when I’ll be reporting on the club at the same time Leo will have his own matches. She’s also a working single mum, so she understands my struggle and has offered to help whenever she can until I get to know the other mums.

Ronan has also been helping Leo practise, fitting in a little too well with us. I haven’t stayed with him since our night together, which is almost worse. With the exception of an occasional stolen kiss, nothing has happened between us. I can’t shrug this off as purely physical when every moment we’ve spent together is so much more.

Cork losing today three to two makes it even harder. Keeping my composure in the press suite was one of the most difficult professional challenges I’ve faced. If I wasn't dating Ronan—or whatever we’re doing—it wouldn’t matter. I love this football club, and hate to see them lose.

Since joining the new premier league, they’re facing the best of the best in football. Players have been recruited from all over the world; it’s incredibly competitive. Cork is no longer the leading team in the Ireland league and they’ll have more losses in the future.

The men are visibly defeated, and now have to deal with the likes of me. Thankfully, it wasn’t a massive upset, and the last goal was scored in the last ten seconds of the game. Keith wasn’t able to stop it, no one could’ve. I’ve successfully avoided questions to Ronan and Keith the past few matches, but I’ll have to tonight.

When I’m called upon to ask my question, I clear my throat and do my best to keep my emotions buried. “Mr. O’Leary, you scored within the first three minutes of the match, can you speak to why the remainder of the game you only managed to touch the ball”—I check my notes—“four additional times the rest of the match?”

“Football is a team sport, Ms. Knightly.” Ronan’s jaw tics. “We played well today. We’ll play even better next match. Next question?”

Hands raise and the media relations assistant calls upon a journalist, Tim Clayton, from a local paper. “You mentioned last week that you have Sensory Processing Disorder, could that have affected your performance in today’s match.”

Ronan’s eyes are murderous, pinning Tim with a glare that if it were a knife would slice him in half. “No, Mr. Clayton. We will not win every match, and I alone am not responsible for a win or loss.”

“Mr. O’Leary will not take any further questions,” the assistant announces and Ronan rushes off in a huff.

My leg bounces as I attempt to contain my rage. I want to go after him, but I have to stay for Keith. The interviews will be recorded and aired locally tonight. A big part of me wants to use the information from them to post online for the network, and find Ronan.

I last exactly forty seconds before I’m out of my seat and leaving as discreetly as I can. When I get to the end of the row, a woman is blocking my exit and I tell her quietly that I need to use the toilet. Though she’s annoyed, she finally moves.

As I open the door, I only make it a foot before I collide with a wall of muscle. Whoever it is wraps me in a tight hug and the moment Ronan’s pine-scented cologne hits my nostrils, I hold him tighter. He sighs deeply and I have to ask, “Hey, are you okay?”

“No.” He pulls back and I notice there are a few people waiting in the hallway. All of them appear to be preoccupied, but hugging Ronan doesn’t look the least bit professional. I step back to give additional space between us and gesture with a nod in the opposite direction for him to follow me. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Away from prying eyes.”

In an instant, Ronan takes my hand and tugs me into a dark room. My bag falls to the ground, and I’m quickly sandwiched between the wall and his toned body, a ghost of a kiss temptingmy lips. “I need you.” His words are breathless, sending a zing throughout my body.

“We can’t do this here,” I whimper, wanting nothing more than to touch him, taste him. “Someone might hear us.”

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